


Taken By Surprise

by HigherMagic



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Nigel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, First Meetings, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Adam Raki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: He went into heat once, when he presented at sixteen. He remembers how awful it had been, his skin on fire, everything feeling wrong, too warm or too harsh against his skin.
Relationships: Nigel (Charlie Countryman)/Adam Raki
Comments: 47
Kudos: 394





	Taken By Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itakethewords (Itakethewords)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itakethewords/gifts).



> Gifted to @Itakethewords. Thank you so much for your help with my friend, darling! I hope you like this <3

Adam has always been sensitive to _feelings_. Not necessarily the emotions of others, he still has trouble reading a room or picking up anything but the most obvious of facial or body language cues, and vocal inflection still takes a lot of his concentration to decipher.

But on the sensory level, he's more attuned. Textures that feel wrong to him leave a weird crawling sensation up his spine, sometimes so bad he has to go wash his hands before he can move past it. Food that tastes weird or is too mealy or chewy makes it hard to swallow, and loud noises are startling and shocking to the point where the only choice is to completely shut down and hope it goes away.

Some of that comes from being an Omega, some of it comes from being on the spectrum, but the combination of those two things means finding solace in routine, and no deviation from the norm. Even moving across the country to California, he was quick to figure out the optimal routes to his place of work, find an apartment that was as close to his old one as he could, with no surprises in the layout or the climate controls or anything like that. He's better about putting himself in foreign social situations, but those usually have to come with preparation and befriending people who are willing to help him with things like confirming rigid schedules and telling him what exactly is expected of him.

Like Amy's baby shower, for example. As an Omega, he's invited to those kinds of things under the social implication that he might, one day, have one himself. Amy told him that slacks and a nice shirt was all that was required, nothing that he doesn't wear every day. She walked with him one time to her place, so he knew the route. She told him ahead of time what food would be provided, and gave him a list of approved gifts beforehand. She also assured him that if he didn't have time or the inclination to find a gift that he thought suitable, he could bring something from the list of snacks and beverages she would appreciate him sourcing himself rather than her or her mate providing.

So Adam was settled, or at least as settled as he could be, attending the shower. He knew most of the guests as mutual acquaintances at the observatory or college, and others were family friends that didn't mind being ignored or overlooked by him, content to talk with others. Amy's mate, a slender dark-skinned Alpha named Eric, knew Adam and they were both interested in astrophysics, though Eric didn't work in that field.

The shower is a resounding success, and Adam bids Amy farewell at precisely 5:38 in the evening, since it takes him twenty-three minutes to walk home. Leaving now means he would be able to have dinner ready by 6:15, which would give him enough time to watch the documentary he'd recorded before taking his telescope out to the park to stargaze.

"Be safe, honey," Amy says warmly, hugging him with a loose embrace. Adam awkwardly pats both her shoulders, mindful of her growing baby bump, and shakes Eric's hand.

Eric gives him a funny look Adam can't figure out. "Do you need someone to walk you home?" he offers.

Adam frowns. "No, I can walk home myself," he replies. It's polite, he supposes, to walk a single Omega back to their place, but it makes no sense for Eric to come with him only to have to walk all the way back. He sees Amy and Eric exchange a small look, and Amy gives a small shake of his head.

"Call us when you get home, then," Eric says. He has that insistent note in his voice Adam has come to recognize. It's the same that Beth used to have when she was helping Adam with his interview and socialization skills.

"Okay," Adam agrees, shrugging. He can call while he's microwaving his dinner; that won't alter his timeline.

Eric nods, and shows him out. Adam takes in a deep breath as he leaves their apartment complex, pushing his messenger bag strap higher on his shoulder. The exchange delayed him slightly, but that's alright; if he keeps a quick pace for the first two blocks he'll break even and arrive home on time.

By the time he gets home, he feels odd. His stomach is cramping slightly and he's out of breath and overly warm. He frowns at himself, as he sets his bag down by the door and shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up in perfect alignment with the others. He presses the back of his wrist to his forehead and finds it clammy.

Strange.

Force of habit sees him fixing dinner without issue, though he finds himself needing to pull off his sweater vest and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, since he's so warm. He keeps his apartment at a perfect seventy-two degrees so he knows he's not overheating that way, and though he wasn't raised in the Los Angeles climate, New York can certainly get warm, so the heat outside isn't so unfamiliar to him that he should be affected this way.

He eats his food and watches his documentary, frowning when he finds he has to keep pausing and rewinding because he keeps zoning out. By the time the film has ended and he's readying his telescope to go, he feels, still, weirdly hungry and very tired.

His phone rings. He takes it from his pocket and sees Amy's name on the screen. "Hello?"

"Hi, honey, are you alright?" she greets. She sounds like she's getting ready for bed too. Her voice is softer than normal, quiet with sleepiness like Beth's used to get when Adam woke her up first thing in the morning. "You didn't call."

"Oh." Adam's mouth twists guiltily. "I'm sorry. I was distracted."

Amy lets out a quiet sound. Adam doesn't know how to decipher it. "Are you going to call in for work?" she asks.

Adam frowns. "Why would I do that?"

Before Amy can answer, there's a noise from the other end of the line. Adam recognizes Eric's heavy footsteps as he passes by her. "Well, you're in preheat, aren't you? I figured you wouldn't want to be at work."

Adam freezes in place. _Oh_. That would certainly explain his symptoms. He presses his wrist to his forehead again and stares at the very light sheen of sweat that comes back. He's in preheat – of course. He never had it in New York; his father kept him on suppressants for his entire life and Adam kept taking them after he died, and while he has a doctor in California, she requires three monthly appointments before prescribing anything like that.

It had all been rather spur of the moment, his move, and he hasn't taken a pill for almost a week.

He went into heat once, when he presented at sixteen. He remembers how awful it had been, his skin on fire, everything feeling _wrong_ , too warm or too harsh against his skin. The helpless and unending, unanswered, waves of lust that had racked his skinny body while he whimpered and tried to bury himself in his nest.

He doesn't even have a nest, here.

"Adam?"

"I suppose I'll call in, yes," Adam agrees finally. It would be the most prudent course of action. "I'm sorry for not calling. That wasn't polite."

She laughs in that way she does when he says something amusing without trying. "It's alright. You're home, right? You've got enough things to take care of yourself for the next few days?"

Adam doesn't. He doesn't like lying, either, so he says, "I'm home."

"Okay, good. Call me if you need _anything_ , okay? Promise."

"I promise," he says. She bids him farewell and they end the call. Adam frowns down at his feet, biting his lower lip, fingers kneading anxiously at his telescope bag. He doesn't have enough supplies to last through his heat, and if he already smells strongly enough for Amy and Eric to notice, he shouldn't go out in public. He could order groceries to be delivered, but the shopper might substitute his items and he'll end up wasting food and money. He is very particular.

Besides, the delivery person might be an Alpha, which would cause a number of other problems.

He doesn't really have a choice.

He puts his telescope away, mourning the fact that he'll miss the opportunity to watch the stars. There has been a brief break in the fog-heavy climate which he knows will not last forever, and might have passed by the time he's recovered, meaning he'll have to wait for another time. He doesn't like that, but it is important, his father had told him, to prioritize his own safety and comfort.

The world is dangerous for Omegas, especially ones like him, he had said. He has to be careful and he has to be smart.

He ends up ordering groceries, because by the time he has put his telescope away and taken off his shoes, he's sweating and shaky and doesn't feel very well. His stomach feels empty and he's already started leaking, his thighs slipping together as slick seeps out of his underwear. It's wholly unpleasant and he strips naked, shivering with cold. He wraps himself in one of his soft blankets, the fabric a dark blue fleece, as he watches the delivery app on his phone for updates.

His driver is punctual, at least. He gets a polite knock on the door when the app tells him his food has been delivered. As he approaches the door, he can scent an Alpha on the other side of it.

His heart kicks up in his chest, even as his mouth floods with saliva. He hesitates by the door, and then peeks through the peephole. There is a man on the other side, a huge man, pacing and red-eyed. Adam swallows.

"I see you," he calls. "You may leave. Thank you."

The Alpha freezes, and looks at the door with a wide twist of his mouth. "Not the only thing I can deliver," he purrs. Adam frowns.

"I don't need anything else from you," he says.

"Don't be like that," the Alpha growls. He doesn't sound very nice at all, and the way he's staring at the door makes Adam nervous. He moves too close to the door and pounds his fist on it. "Open up, sweet thing. I can take care of you."

"Please go away," Adam says, as a tremor runs down his spine.

"Aw, come on -."

"Hey, asshole! You need to get the fuck outta here."

Adam can't see the source of the second voice, but clearly the Alpha can. He turns and scowls in a direction the peephole doesn't cover. "This bitch yours?" he asks, chin lifted. The answering snarl makes Adam's stomach twist sharply in a way he's not _entirely_ sure is fear. "You need to learn to keep him locked down before someone gets it in their head to really satisfy him."

"I'm giving you two seconds to back away," the second voice says. The first Alpha steps back as a second one approaches. He's older, with grey in his hair and a tattoo on his neck. He's not as big as the first Alpha but he's larger than Adam, dressed in a rather ridiculous looking blue short-sleeved collared shirt with wiener dogs on it, and black slacks and shoes. He's tan, and looks strong, and much more confident than Adam would be facing down a rival of that size.

The delivery man holds his hands up and smirks in a way that is not friendly at all, even Adam can see that. "Suit yourself," he says, and leaves. The second Alpha glares at his back, his shoulders falling as the first disappears. He turns his head, lifts his chin, breathes in.

Adam flinches back as knuckles rap gently on the door. "Please go away," Adam says again. "I just need my groceries."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll leave," the Alpha murmurs. He smiles, and he has a much nicer smile than the other man did. Adam even believes him when he says not to worry. He watches through the peephole as the Alpha kneels down and corrects his bags, and then stands. "I'm going to go down a little way and make sure you get everything safely, and then you can lock the door and I'll leave, okay?"

Adam frowns. Every warning bell in his head goes off at that. It could be a trick to get him to open the door, and he'd be stupid to fall for the trap.

But, again, he doesn't have much of a choice. Once the Alpha leaves the viewpoint of the peephole, Adam will have no idea if he's actually gone or not. And he's very hungry.

He sighs, and says, "Alright."

The Alpha nods, and steps away. Adam counts to thirty before slowly unlocking the door and cracking it open an inch. Immediately, the scent of the first Alpha hits him hard as a punch. He gasps, his knees buckling, and cinches his blanket as tight around his body as he can.

He reaches forward and drags the bags into his apartment by their handles. They smell like the second Alpha; a crisp, clean scent. Cologne that reminds Adam of his time in high school, and cigarette smoke that has yet to turn stale, and alcohol. It's not entirely unpleasant, especially not to Adam's heat-raddled brain.

He feels eyes on him, a sharp sensation on the back of his flushed neck, and looks down the hallway. The Alpha is there, just as he said he would be, leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest in a way that highlights how muscled and strong he is. On his knees as Adam is, he looks even bigger, but not at all threatening like the other Alpha did. At least, not a threat to _him_.

The Alpha smiles at him. He has a nice smile, wide and lazy and showing the tips of his sharp fangs. "It's alright, gorgeous," he says. His irises have a vague sheen of red in them and he's clearly affected by Adam's heat scent, but comes no closer. He nods to Adam's groceries. "Did you get everything you needed?"

Adam bites his lower lip. "Let me check," he murmurs, and looks down at his bags, rifling through them. He should close the door, but he doesn't. He sighs and shakes his head. "He forgot my fever reducers."

The Alpha nods, lips pursing. "I can go get some for you," he offers.

Adam looks up at him, brow creased.

"Heats are a fucking bitch, I know that much," the Alpha says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "I need more smokes soon anyway; I'm already headed that way. It's no trouble."

This is new territory. Adam didn't have time to prepare and he has no idea what protocol is. But he needs medicine to help him reduce his fever. Unmated Omegas, especially ones that have been on suppressants as long as he has, can be damaged very badly by an ill-timed heat. His brain is in real danger of cooking inside his own skull.

"I can give you money," he says.

The Alpha laughs. "They're like twenty bucks, gorgeous, don't worry about it."

Adam's frown deepens. "I don't want you to expect anything," he snaps.

The Alpha's brows rise, and he grins again in that lopsided, rather endearing way. At least, it makes Adam's stomach do strange things and his heart beat quickly. "I don't expect anything," the Alpha assures him. Adam believes him. He might be foolish to do so, but he does.

Adam stands, blanket gripped tight around his shoulders. He knows it's doing nothing to cover the shiny, slick-covered insides of his legs, or his flushed face and neck, but he can't do much about that.

He nods, and the Alpha smiles widely at him. "Name's Nigel, by the way."

"Adam," Adam replies. "Raki."

"I'll be back in twenty, Adam," Nigel says, pushing himself from the wall. Adam flinches back farther into his apartment, his eyes on Nigel and his hand white-knuckling the door handle. "Close and lock your door and don't open it for anyone you don't know, okay?"

"I don't know you," Adam says. "I'm not going to open the door for you, either."

Nigel's eyes gleam with amusement. It's like hearing Amy's laugh, the warmth in those dark eyes. "Fair enough," Nigel says, and runs a hand through his hair. He pauses, and lifts his chin just slightly. He's obviously scenting the air. "I need to…go that way," he says, gesturing down the hall, which will take him past Adam's door. Adam tenses and closes the door most of the way.

"I appreciate this, Nigel," Adam says quietly, his eyes on Nigel's chest.

"We gotta look out for each other, right?" Nigel laughs. Adam doesn't know what to say to that. "You know what? I did think of something you could do for me, if you're up for it." Adam frowns. "Let me take you to dinner once you're done with this whole fucking mess."

Adam tilts his head to one side. "Why?" he asks, his eyes dropping to Nigel's feet.

Nigel laughs. Adam wasn't making a joke, but his laugh is nice. "Because I'd be a fucking fool if I let someone like you go without at least one dinner."

"You don't know me."

"No," Nigel concedes, "but that's the point."

Adam bites his lower lip.

"If after your heat, you want nothing to do with me, I can accept that," Nigel adds. "But fuck, gorgeous, you might be one of the most beautiful damn things I've ever seen in my Goddamn life."

Adam's lips twitch into a thin smile. "You swear a lot," he says.

"Does that bother you?"

No, it doesn't. Adam shakes his head.

Nigel grins. "So we have a deal?" he asks. He looks very…hopeful. That's what that look is. Happiness and giddiness, like when Adam looks at the stars.

"Get me my medicine and I'll think about it," Adam says.

Nigel laughs again, and nods. "Deal," he says. Adam closes the door, and watches Nigel pass in front of it, and go on his way. He sighs to himself, rubbing his forehead against the cool wood, before he manages enough wherewithal to put his groceries away.

He's just finishing up when he hears a gentle knock, and then the sound of rustling plastic like someone is hanging a bag on the door handle. He goes to the door, and through the peephole, spies Nigel.

"Brought your meds, sweetheart," Nigel calls.

Adam smiles. "Thank you, Nigel."

"I left my number in there too," Nigel adds with a wink. "Call me when you're hungry."

"I'm hungry now," Adam says.

Nigel pauses, and huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "For dinner, gorgeous. When you're not in heat anymore." Oh. That makes more sense.

With that, he leaves. Adam counts to thirty, and opens the door, snatching the bag. He closes and locks his chain and deadbolt, and pours the contents out on the counter. There are the fever reducers, as Nigel promised, and some pain medication as well, and a veritable hoard of sugary snacks to keep his energy up during his heat, and a large bottle of some bright red liquid that boasts itself as being perfect for keeping electrolyte balance in Omegas during their heats.

Thoughtful. Unnecessary, but thoughtful.

On the receipt, Nigel scrawled his number. Adam smiles, and pins it to the fridge, so that he doesn't lose it.


End file.
